Maybe. Someday. The Two Words That Are Stealing Your Life.
Stop waiting, start living, and recognize the hidden signs of burnout at work before it’s too late.
We all have a word we use to lie to ourselves when we’re too tired to face the truth. For some, it’s “busy.” For others, it’s “trapped.” But if you are currently grinding through a career that is draining the life out of you, there are two specific words you are likely using to keep yourself stuck.
I was talking to TN the other day. He’s 13, and he wanted to know if he could go and watch a film at the cinema.
I said maybe.
He looked at me and said, without missing a beat: “Well, that means no then.”
He wasn’t being cheeky. He was letting me know what we’d taught him.
And when I thought about it, he was right. Maybe had become a way of saying no without the argument that followed an outright refusal. It turned to yes just often enough to keep hope alive, but not often enough to mean anything.
A 13-year-old had worked that out. It’s taken me 50 years.
Maybe and someday are the two most dangerous words in the English language. Not because they’re cruel or dishonest. Because they feel kind. They feel reasonable. They let you off the hook without technically breaking any promises.
But a 13-year-old can see straight through them. And deep down, so can you.
The Cost of Staying in a Job That Burns You Out.
I spent 30 years as a police officer. In that time I worked alongside some of the finest people I’ve ever known.
Andy was one of them. We served together for years. Cancer took him in 2018, mid-forties, far too soon. Richie retired, came back, and then COVID took him, mid-fifties, another good man gone.
I don’t tell you this to be morbid. I tell you because Andy and Richie deserved their somedays and didn’t get them. Most of us walk around assuming we will. We treat our endless tolerance for stress as a badge of honor, ignoring the quiet signs of burnout at work because we tell ourselves we’ll deal with it “someday.”
But someday isn’t a day of the week.
Here’s what also I’ve learned though. Someday isn’t always the wrong word.
Using “Someday” as a Reminder, Not a Delay.
About 15 years ago Natalie decided that my dad and I didn’t need more stuff for Christmas. We needed time together, as father and son, because someday we wouldn’t be able to, and that someday would arrive faster than either of us wanted to admit.
So we started going to rugby internationals, Test cricket matches, any sporting event that allowed us to share our joint passions and enjoy each others company. We’d book the tickets, we’d show up. We’ve had some of the best days of my life.
Dad’s nearly 80 now. That future Natalie was pointing at is almost here. I don’t dwell on it. I just don’t ignore it either.
That’s someday used correctly. Not as a delay. As a reminder.
A while back I stood at a finish line and watched Natalie complete her first half marathon. I didn’t run it, she did. But I was there for the moment she crossed the line and realised she’d turned a someday into a Sunday.
It was one of the best things I’ve ever witnessed.
The Cost of Carrying Too Many Somedays
I’ll be honest with you. Most of my somedays are still out there. Still future tense. Still waiting.
That’s the reality of being a dad in your forties with a mortgage, a career, and a family depending on you. Responsibility has a habit of getting in the way of life, and navigating career burnout over 40 isn’t something they teach you how to do when you sign the contract. I’m not sure that’s entirely wrong, I chose this life and I’d choose it again.
But I watched Andy and Richie run out of time. I stand at finish lines cheering for someone else’s dreams. I go to the rugby because I know that window won’t stay open forever. And I have a 13-year-old who already knows that maybe means no.
So here’s the question I’ve been sitting with, and I’ll leave it with you. How many somedays are you carrying right now? How many of them were on the list five years ago?
Someday doesn’t move on its own. You have to move it.
We leave the Isle of Man in September 2027. That used to be a vague someday. Now it’s a concrete date in the calendar, and if you want to know how we actually made that decision as a family, you can read it here.
What’s your date? If you are tired of hiding behind “maybe” and want to start mapping out your actual exit strategy, join our private community letter. We’re figuring out how to step away from the grind at our own pace.
